Lies and Eyes

Trust is a precious thing that – if destroyed – is gone forever.

Eyes 2.4

Have you ever been betrayed? Cheated on, lied to, stolen from by someone you cared about? I guess most of us have had a two-faced friend or lover at some time in our lives. The hurt of their betrayal takes a long time to forget.

My kids lied to me at times, sometimes to spare themselves and sometimes to spare me, but I like to think that’s intelligence, not betrayal. For awhile I had a husband who liked to fuck other women and deny it; one of them was a friend of mine. It wasn’t a big surprise or even a big hurt because our marriage had drifted out of the realm of precious things, and the “friend” wasn’t someone I was ever very fond of.

My particular Big-Hurt betrayal involved a trusted employee and many thousands of dollars. So fond was I of this particular person, that as proof of her wrong-doing was uncovered, I would go to bed at night saying, “She did it. It was Her.” And then I’d awake in the morning thinking, “No, there must be another explanation. She just couldn’t – wouldn’t – have done it.” Months passed as I learned forensic accounting, retrieved data from out-dated computer files and recreated missing bank statements. The evidence became irrefutable, and finally I went to the police. They confronted her, but for a number of complex reasons, no charges were ever filed.

I learned a few things from the experience, but one that sticks in my mind is something a police sergeant told me – and it has nothing to do with assuaging the pain of betrayal, because I think only time and forgetfulness can do that. He said, “When you ask a person a question, if their eyes look to the right (your right) as they answer, they are telling the truth; if they look left, they are lying.” Okay, it’s not an exact science, but as a generalization, it’s accurate.

Several years have passed since the whole painful episode, but I’m often reminded of it by a circumstance or the action of a friend or acquaintance. Now and then I cross paths with the former employee; we nod but don’t speak. Even though “Why?” burns in my heart, I do not want to get close enough to watch her eyes when I ask the question.

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About Wizened Eye

I'm a photo-artist living in northern N.Y. and Ottawa, Canada.
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